On July 12th, 2025, Sam Beal dropped his girlfriend off at a relative’s house and, in her car, was supposed to drive on to his job at an Amazon facility in Kentwood, Michigan. He never clocked in. Twenty-four hours later, she traced him to near the oceanfront in Virginia Beach, about 1,450km south and a part of the country with which he has no connection.
The couple spoke then and he assured her he was about to head home. He didn’t. A few days later, her vehicle was found there, containing his flip-flops, a pair of socks, a parking ticket and a receipt for a bottle of sparkling wine. There was also sand in the footwells.
“Tomorrow makes it seven months since we’ve last heard from or seen my brother,” wrote Essence Zhane in a Facebook post earlier this month. “We’ve done everything we could on our end to piece things together and at this point we’re in desperate need of support on all ends. I’m not here to answer a bunch of whys and hows, I just need this to land in the right direction to gain some form of answers or closure. I’m a Big sister and I need my brother to know that We Love You and miss you . . .”
Zhane’s plea drew national attention because Beal is a former cornerback with the New York Giants. All the follow-up television news reports on his plight featured images of him in his pomp, wearing their distinctive royal blue shirt with his number 23 on the front.
In a professional career truncated by injury and disrupted by him sitting out a full season because of Covid-19, he only played nine games in the NFL and was released in 2021. But, once a Giant, always a Giant. The increased media spotlight on the 29-year-old’s disappearance has revealed somebody apparently struggling for a while.
He was still in the league when arrested in Ohio for improperly handling firearms in a motor vehicle, carrying a concealed weapon and marijuana possession. That charge earned him two years’ probation, but, in retirement, he ended up in prison in his native Michigan from September 2024 to February 2025 for failing to pay child support. Those who know him have spoken of somebody battling issues of self-worth in the years since being let go by the Giants. It is a sadly familiar narrative of a former star athlete struggling to adjust to the vagaries of post-playing existence.
Right now, the United States is utterly consumed by the compelling emotional turbulence of the NFL playoffs. It is a drawn-out melodrama offering a heady brew of triumph and failure, spawning fresh heroes and villains, annually turning little-known individuals into fleetingly famous champs and chumps.
The Southern University marching band performs prior to Super Bowl 59 between the Kansas City Chiefs and the Philadelphia Eagles at Caesars Superdome, Louisiana, on February 9th, 2025. Photograph: Patrick Smith/Getty Images
It all culminates in the most over-produced of shindigs, the Super Bowl on the second Sunday of February, where an outsized sporting event meets the production values of a Broadway show. And every casual fan across the nation is somehow inveigled to gawk at the spectacle, to marvel at the gladiatorial combat.
Beyond the klieg lights and relentless hoopla, there is a darker side to the national obsession, more brutal and less forgiving even than the gruelling action on the field. This sport chews up and spits out plenty of journeymen like Beal who make it all the way to the show but don’t endure. They suit up for a few games before being cast aside.
It might be an injury at an inopportune time. Or a higher-quality replacement suddenly becoming available. Perhaps a crucial mistake convinces coaches they aren’t quite up to snuff. Whatever the reason, a lot of nailed-on prospects end up prematurely losing their jobs and subsequently struggling to regain equilibrium in their lives.
The average NFL career lasts 3.3 seasons. Between 2012 and 2021, the average cornerback played 38 games before being cut. That’s not even 2½ campaigns. One in three drafted players make less than 10 appearances as a professional. Individuals can flame out so quickly, often going from being on television one day to searching for a day job the next.
For men whose entire identity has been wrapped up in their own sporting excellence, that kind of shuddering collision with reality and rejection can cause mental health problems. Since contracts are not guaranteed, earning power goes way down and financial difficulties inevitably ensue.
Beal’s career trajectory was typical of those currently trying to steer the Los Angeles Rams, New England Patriots, Seattle Seahawks and Denver Broncos to the Super Bowl. A standout at Ottawa Hills high school where he was also a track star, his performances for the Western Michigan Broncos attracted NFL scouts. Blessed with speed, height and a great work ethic, he departed college for the paid ranks a year early due to academic eligibility issues.
When the Giants gave him a $1 million signing bonus and a salary rising from $480,000 to $1 million over four seasons, he looked destined for stardom. That was until he got injured, his progress was hindered and the contract was voided early. On such things, a whole life can turn.
While the rest of America has been captivated by the playoffs, Essence Zhane and her family have trawled morgues, hospitals, police department records and psychiatric wards in their quest for answers to what happened to their one-time NFL star. No answers have yet been forthcoming.
If you are affected by any issue in this article, please contact Pieta House on 1800-247247 or the Samaritans by telephoning 116123 (free) or by emailing jo@samaritans.ie